


The Collins Nerd Guide

by JennaCupcakes



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together, also nerds, like seriously this is just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaCupcakes/pseuds/JennaCupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre and Courfeyrac move in together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Collins Nerd Guide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nakymatonlapsi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nakymatonlapsi/gifts).



> This is a birthday present to a dear friend of mine. Happy birthday, and I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> It's my first fic in a while, and it hasn't been beta-read except for what my tired eyes spotted for themselves, so I apologise for any blatant mistakes.

“Christ, ‘ferre, what is _in_ those boxes?”

Courfeyrac’s face disappeared almost completely behind a square box of at least one and a half metres in diameter. He was halfway up the narrowest staircase he had seen in his entire life, and his nose was itching.

“Are you asking me because you’re insinuating that my boxes are heavier than yours, or are you legitimately curious?”

Combeferre was still at the bottom of the stairs, wisely waiting until Courfeyrac had managed the climb before following. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and his hair was sticking to his forehead from the exertion of the last two or three runs with boxes they’d done.

Third story apartment. What a waste of energy.

Courfeyrac just sighed and took the next step. Only five more to go.

“You know, we should have taken into account the number of staircases we’d have to climb with our stuff when we decided to move here.”

“My back hurts.”  
“You’re almost there.”

“The view is not even that good.”

Combeferre chuckled. Courfeyrac tried for a glance over his shoulder, but decided against it in favour of keeping his balance. “What?”

“It’s not so bad from here.”

Courfeyrac didn’t have to look to know that Combeferre had his arms folded over his chest, a small smile playing on his lips that was the top indicator for the fact that he thought himself to have made a particularly well-played joke. He wasn’t _smug_ , not quite, but pleased enough for Courfeyrac to want to climb back down the stairs and punch him. In a friendly way. Because he approved of Combeferre’s shenanigans, one hundred percent. He was just mad he hadn’t thought of the joke first.

Before he could think of an appropriate answer, however – probably something like _I consider my backside to be one of my finest features, thank you very much_ – Combeferre pursed his lips.

“It’s starting to rain.”

“Oh no.”

He put the box down on the top of the stairs and then quickly climbed back down where indeed, rain was starting to trickle down the large window of the second-story-hallway. The sky had turned an even nastier shade of grey than this morning when they had started unloading the boxes.

“There are five more in the car,” Combeferre said, “I’ll get them inside while you bring this one to the apartment, and then we can at least park the car and bring them up later one by one.”

Courfeyrac pouted. “It’s raining.”

“Yes, which is why we should finish moving our stuff inside.”

Combeferre was glaring at the drops of water like they had personally wronged him. Courfeyrac had to sneak up behind him and wrap his arms around Combeferre’s waist.

“Or we could make some tea. The kitchen’s all set.” He leaned in to whisper into Combeferre’s ear. “I’ll make your favourite, okay?”

Combeferre groaned, leaning back into Courfeyrac’s embrace.

“You’re not playing fair.”

“It’s why I’m so good. Come on, we’ll cuddle up in some blankets and watch Firefly. It’ll be amazing.”

“Blankets are still in the car,” Combeferre added regretfully, “The idea was fun while it lasted.”

“Alas.” Courfeyrac was practiced in his long-suffering sigh of drama. “Then get those boxes. I’ll be waiting for you.”

—Ψ—

Courfeyrac was perched over one of the boxes when Combeferre finally shut the door behind himself and the last box in his hands.

“The Collins Bird Guide?”

He was waving around a heavy but compact book with a broken spine, held all in black.

“I didn’t even know there _were_ that many birds.”

“You’re dating me, of course you know.”

Combeferre took the book from him to lovingly stroke the cover and then place it back into the box. “It’s probably the most comprehensive guide you can find to the birds of Europe, plus some added rare guests from America.”

“Sounds amazing.”

“It is.”

Combeferre smiled. He knew Courfeyrac was just winding him up, for the hell of it. Moreover, Courfeyrac was smiling back at him.

“So,” Courfeyrac said, “first evening in the new apartment. Any ideas?”

Combeferre’s smile was on the best way to evolve into a fully-fledged grin. “It’s so surreal.”

“It is,” Courfeyrac agreed. His hands were still on the box, and he was alternating between looking at Combeferre’s face and the space around them like he was trying to process it all.

“With the material at hand, we could built a box fort. Your bird book goes into the first line of defence.”

“Then so does your collection of Rothfuss novels.”

Courfeyrac crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“That’s low, ‘ferre, even for you. You know how much Rothfuss means to me.”

“Nerd.”

That got Combeferre a poke to his side. He yelped and jumped up.

“No! _No_.”

Courfeyrac laughed heartily at that, a sound that reverberated in the still empty space of their new apartment. It had seemed like such a big step, moving together at the beginning of both of their master studies, like they hadn’t been sure they’d be able to balance a relationship with uni work and their daily lives, but now it just felt _right_. It had been the best choice for them, definitely.

Combeferre continued to eye him warily, until he was sure that Courfeyrac’s desire for adventure and teasing his boyfriend had been momentarily appeased, then slowly joined him in crouching on the floor again.

“What do you say you get the tea you were talking about, and I’ll go and find the blankets? And some pillows?”

“Brilliant idea.”

Courfeyrac stood up and offered Combeferre a hand, pulling him into a hug as he pulled him up to steal a quick kiss.

“Charmer,” Combeferre laughed.

“Hush, you love it.”

—Ψ—

They were huddled under the blankets, with the rain still pounding against the window until late in the evening. Courfeyrac had his head in Combeferre’s lap, and Combeferre was absentmindedly stroking his hair.

Courfeyrac yawned.

“I could fall asleep like that.”

“I bet you could.” Combeferre chuckled. “It’s comforting to know that I’m at least a good pillow to you. If nothing else.”

Courfeyrac tried for a weak punch, missed by far and dropped his arm.

“Read something to me.”

“Like what?”

“How about your bird anthology?” Courfeyrac grinned up at Combeferre from under his lashes. “That sounds like it would send me right to sleep.”

He wasn’t quite fast enough to escape Combeferre’s poke to his side, and erupted into a pile of helpless laughter on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> You should also totally check out the Collins Bird Guide. I'm just saying. I don't work with it but it's great. Especially for puns and lazy fic titles.
> 
> Also, go and read the Kingkiller Chronicles by Patrick Rothfuss.


End file.
